Inside Marvel X DC World

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Mike had to peel off the metallic spider suit from his body, while Gwen quickly changed out of her damp spider suit back into her casual dress.

The locker room was small.

With his back turned to Gwen, Mike worked on removing the metal spider silk clinging to him. He could sense her presence behind him—smooth, graceful, and uncomfortably close. Occasionally, her movements caused her limbs to brush against his lower back.

Normally, this wouldn't be a problem.

But now?

Mike's enhanced spider sense magnified every touch tenfold. Despite himself, his attention drifted toward the presence behind him. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye revealed Gwen's slender back, her fair skin disappearing into the fabric of her dress. His gaze traced the curve of her neck, traveling lower—

'No! Focus, Mike!'

He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The faint floral scent in the air didn't help matters—it was Gwen's fragrance, subtle yet intoxicating.

'Why did it smell even better now?'

Mike could feel heat rising within him, his instincts stirred by the super spider gene. It was a strange mix of torment and temptation.

Two minutes later, he peeled off the final strand of metal spider silk from his body. Just as he was about to turn, Gwen's voice came from behind him, "I'm done."

"Finally." Mike exhaled, relief washing over him. But before he could move, Gwen lunged forward, knocking him onto the floor.

Startled, Mike didn't react. Gwen sat astride him, her hands pressing lightly against his chest.

The sight took his breath away. Gwen, dressed in her usual outfit, looked different—her damp, golden hair clung to her face, and her flushed cheeks glowed with a rosy hue. Her clear, gem-like eyes were slightly hazy, her lips parted as she panted softly.

The Gwen Stacy he knew—usually poised and intellectual—had transformed into something else entirely: vulnerable, and irresistibly alluring.

"I can't... I can't hold back~" Gwen murmured, her voice tinged with frustration.

"Gwen, what are you—" Mike began, only to have his words muffled as she leaned down and kissed him.

"Mmmmm💋💋~"

Gwen started kissing Mike, her tongue entered his mouth, circling around his. Mike wasn't able to do anything because he was also feeling extremely good.

Hey, wait a second! Again?!

Mike's thoughts spiraled. This was the second time today.

Step!

The quiet of the mall was broken by faint footsteps echoing through its ravaged halls. Instructor Roth's palms were sweaty as he gripped the alien firearm tighter, his nerves on edge.

He crept cautiously past a deactivated alien robot sprawled on the ground, climbing to the fourth floor. The mall's walls were pocked with craters from alien bombardment, and debris from shattered merchandise and personal belongings littered the floors.

As Roth approached the door of a clothing store, he paused. From within the fitting rooms, he heard faint rustling.

"Was someone in there?"

Tensing, Roth raised his weapon and prepared to confront whatever might be hiding inside. But before he could act, the door swung open unexpectedly, sending him stumbling forward.

"Mike?"

"Instructor Roth!"

Startled, Roth found himself face-to-face with two familiar faces: Mike and Gwen. Relief flooded him, but confusion followed swiftly, "What are you two doing here?"

"I... I was worried about Gwen." Mike said quickly, "I came back and found her, so we hid here together."

"Y-yeah." Gwen added, her voice trembling, "We were scared..."

Her lips, slightly red and swollen, gave away a different story. She glanced sideways at Mike, who sighed inwardly.

How was this his fault?

Roth didn't notice the subtle exchange. His face crumpled with emotion as he realized all his students were safe. Overwhelmed, he broke down in tears.

"You're all okay..." Roth sobbed, "When we got separated in the chaos, I thought—I thought I'd lost some of you."

"Instructor, you're the real hero." Mike said sincerely.

___

As night fell over New York City, the aftermath of the alien attack painted a grim picture. Smoke still rose from ruins, and military helicopters circled overhead, while emergency responders worked tirelessly to rescue survivors and recover the dead.

Amid this chaos, Mike slipped away from the group, leaving Gwen to distract their instructor. He had someone to find.

Reaching a devastated part of the city, Mike spotted a familiar figure. Wanda stood alone near the ruins, her expression blank as rescue workers zipped two bodies into white bags.

"Wanda." Mike called gently, wrapping her in a protective embrace, "It's okay to cry."

At his words, the red-haired girl broke down, clutching at him as sobs wracked her body. "Mom and Dad are gone... And Pietro... Pietro is missing... I'm all alone."

"No, you're not." Mike's voice was firm, "You still have family. Pietro will be okay, and you'll always have me."

"Really?" Wanda looked up at him, her tear-streaked face reflecting both hope and despair.

"Of course." Mike said softly, brushing her hair back.

Wanda nodded, the trembling in her shoulders subsiding. Yet, as she looked out toward the city's skyline, her expression changed.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked, following her gaze.

At first, he saw nothing but the crimson sky above the city. But then, faintly, he heard it—a wailing sound. Not from the ruins around him, nor from New York City itself. It came from far beyond, reverberating through the air like an unearthly echo.

This was no ordinary cry.

This was a wail heard across the world.

When Mike rushed back to the city where his instructors and classmates were gathered, he noticed that nearly everyone was staring at a massive advertising screen mounted on a building. Their faces were a mix of shock and disbelief.

The screen displayed a live broadcast.

The report was coming from Gotham City, captured by a helicopter's aerial footage.

The scene was devastating: sirens blared relentlessly, flames raged across the skyline, and thick smoke filled the air. The cityscape resembled a war zone.

An abandoned factory had been reduced to rubble, its surrounding area collapsed into a massive crater nearly five meters deep. Shattered buildings and twisted steel littered the ground, a grim testament to the ferocity of the battle. Even through the screen, it felt as if you could almost smell the acrid stench of gunpowder lingering in the air.

The footage made it clear: while New York was recovering from an alien invasion, Gotham City was embroiled in its own brutal and catastrophic conflict.

At the heart of the chaos stood a trio of figures. A man clad in black bat-like armor, a striking woman wielding a golden sword and shield, and another woman dressed in an ordinary shirt and skirt, resembling a civilian reporter.

Mike's expression darkened. His aunt was part of this war too.

As the camera zoomed in, the battle scene came into sharper focus.

A massive, grotesque creature dominated the battlefield. Its hulking frame was covered in dense, corded muscle, its appearance more monstrous and terrifying than anything Mike had ever encountered before. The creature seemed like a living nightmare—an abomination born of chaos.

Facing it was a tall figure draped in a red cape, the symbol of hope emblazoned on his chest.

Mike's breath caught. There was no need for an introduction or commentary; everyone on Earth knew who this man was.

Superman.